The Origin of Loki
by LokisLittleLion
Summary: <html><head></head>This story both explores and expands upon Loki's role in 'Thor' as well as the stories of those around him. What really happened on the day that Odin found Loki in Jotunheim? How did Loki survive his fall? And, perhaps most importantly, does Loki have it in him not only to survive, but to thrive? This is the beginning of Loki's journey to not just find, but to create himself.</html>


**Prologue**

Of all the objects the All-father kept in the weapons vault, the Casket was, without a doubt, Loki's favorite. The child's eyes never left the swirling, shimmering artifact as his father continued to tell its story. He'd heard bits and pieces of this story as long as he could remember, mostly told by other youngsters who, like Loki, had heard different versions of the tale from their own parents. Elements of the story changed with very re-telling of it, as any story would, but there was one key detail that always remained consistent.

_Jotuns_.

More than twice the height of most Asgardians - easily four times for little Loki and Thor - the foul, heartless beasts remained Asgard's greatest enemy. Everything about their existence, from their land to the very blood that ran through their veins was sinister and cold. Everything that Asgard was and represented, Jotunheim and its inhabitants sought to destroy, just as they once did with Midgard. Thanks to Odin All-father and his legion of loyal and courageous warriors, the jotuns' dream of destroying Earth was crushed - and with it, much of their pitiful realm. Whatever remained of their power crumbled as their weapon was taken from them.

The Casket of Ancient Winters. Loki had received quite the scolding when he reached out to touch it. Within its swirling depths lurked the raw malice and destructive power of the frost giants, his father had explained. And so, Loki was content to merely stand back and observe it as the All-father explained its history. For the time being, at least. Loki had no doubt that, one day, he would be powerful enough to touch it - not to wield, of course, but to prove his discipline and strength. Thor would someday have his hammer. Loki would have his magic.

The All-father fell silent. Loki blinked, realizing he had somewhat tuned out the ending of the story. Oops.

"Do the frost giants still live?" he asked timidly.

"When I'm king," Thor vowed, "I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!" He pumped his fists into the air, grinning ear to ear in Loki's direction, as if to reassure him. He turned his eager gaze upon Odin. "Just as you did, father!"

"A wise king _never_ seeks out war. But," A small smile took to the corner of the All-father's mouth as he noted his son's enthusiasm, "he must always be ready for it." What harm was there in indulging the child? He began to walk away.

Thor and Loki turned to each other. Both of them smirked, easily guessing each other's thoughts. They raced after their father, with Loki catching up to his left, and Thor, who had reached the All-father first, stayed obediently at his right.

"I'm ready, father!" Thor cried.

"So am I!"

Odin held each of their hands. "Only one of you can ascend the throne," he spoke plainly, "but both of you were born to be kings." The boys shared a brief look. Of course, they knew exactly who the future king would be.

"Go along, now," the All-father ordered them.

Again, the boys raced - this time, to the garden. And again, Thor won.

* * *

><p>Frigga's chambers overlooked that very garden, giving her the best view from the palace as she continued her spinning. Although she trusted her boys, she knew that Thor and his friends could occasionally be a bit rough with their play, especially where Loki was involved. It gave the All-mother a sense of comfort to be able to watch over her children from a safe distance, without intruding on their adventures.<p>

She rarely heard Loki during their quests and battles and, being the shy and private sort of child that he was, she felt no need to. She could, however, hear Thor from any place in the palace. And often to their dismay, so could their servants and any visitors from foreign realms. She would merely smile and nod on the occasion one of them might voice a complaint. Expression was important to her boys, and so it was just as important to her.

The All-mother's true concern was that Loki might not feel the freedom to express himself. Thor was a warm and loving brother - as far as the boy was concerned, he and Loki were a package deal. Where Thor went, so did Loki. What Thor did not yet realize was that he often spoke over Loki, or even for him.

To give Loki a bit of a break now and then, and a chance to shine on his own, Frigga had started teaching him magic and, to their mutual delight, found that he had a knack for it. Her husband had scoffed at the idea of passing such knowledge onto their son, but what Frigga knew, that Odin did not, was that Loki truly _needed_ their lessons.

Thor was a gregarious child, the center of attention at every social gathering he and his brother attended. Odin was a loving and well-meaning father, but in truth, he did not quite know how to reach Loki. He was familiar with Thor's outgoing nature. He shared in Thor's love of battle and rarely had difficulty relating to him.

Loki was different. He did not shy from battle, but neither was he particularly interested in it. Where Thor saw it as an opportunity for glory, Loki saw it as a means to an end. Where Thor actively sought the monsters hiding under their beds at night, Loki was content to seal off the openings to trap them inside - after all, they would be gone by morning. And if they weren't, Loki was confident that he could outsmart them, perhaps send them into the eager fists of his brother.

Loki was always thinking.

Always planning.

Always creating.

With her guidance, Frigga knew that one day, Loki would create an incredible future for Asgard. It would never be enough for Loki to simply observe the world - he wanted to mold it, and Frigga had no doubt that he would someday do just that.

What the All-mother feared was that the rest of Asgard would not appreciate and understand him as she did, or worse - that they would not accept him.

* * *

><p>"You're it!" Thor shouted as he clapped Loki on his shoulder.<p>

"Why do _I_ always have to be the frost giant?" Loki grumbled, cheeks reddening as their friends giggled.

"Well, you're... you know."

"I'm what?"

Silence.

Their friends - the Warriors Three (and Sif), as they called themselves, hushed. The eldest, an unusually hairy boy with a deep red beard already beginning to grow, stepped forward. "You're different."

"Volstagg!" Sif snapped, elbowing him in his side.

"Oof!"

"That's mean!"

Loki's cheeks burned. "I am NOT different!"

"It's all right, Loki," Thor said, reaching out to him. Loki pulled away.

"I can be the frost giant this time," Fandral, a scrawny blond-haired boy, offered. Of all of Thor's friends, Fandral was most often the peace maker when a conflict arose. Ordinarily, Loki would listen to him, as he was usually the kindest toward him.

"_What do you mean I'm different?_"

"Loki," Thor cut in, becoming increasingly uncomfortable and not wishing to take sides, "just let it go. Fandral can be the frost giant this time!"

This time, Loki had no intention of letting it go.

"But I'm the frost giant every other time! _Why?_ What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Thor boomed. "You're being so sensitive! Look, _I'll_ be the frost giant next time, and then maybe Hogun can be after that."

"But I don't want to be the frost giant." The fourth boy protested.

Tears rolled down Loki's cheeks. "Neither do I! Why do we always have to play this game, anyway? Why can't we ever play something different?"

"Don't be such a baby," Volstagg sighed. "What would you rather do, play with dolls?"

"Shut up!"

Sif frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "What's wrong with dolls?"

"Stay out of this!" Loki snapped.

"Hey, don't yell at her!" Volstagg growled.

Thor stepped between them. "Leave him alone, Volstagg." He turned around to face Loki. "We can play another game, brother-"

"NO! I don't want to play with you anymore! Frost giant, bilgesnipe, I'm _always_ the monster! Everyone treats me different! Everyone always laughs at me!"

"Loki-" Again, Thor reached for him, and again, Loki rejected his touch.

"Just leave me alone!" he shouted before running off.

Fandral and Sif moved to block Thor as he attempted to chase after his brother. "Just let him go, Thor," Sif said. "He'll be fine."

"No thanks to you," Fandral added as he passed Volstagg, who looked more than a little guilty. Thor stayed rooted to his spot, watching the doors as if hoping Loki would come back through them at any second. He did not.

* * *

><p>Frigga knew something was wrong the moment Loki burst through the door to her chambers. Although he was welcome to join her at any time, it was unusual for him to show up unannounced. Her heart nearly broke when she noticed his flushed, tear-stained cheeks and his glistening reddish eyes. He was so caught up in whatever it was that ailed him that he nearly walked right into her as she approached him. He sniffled as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. She held him for a few minutes, softly running a hand along his hair to comfort him.<p>

"Why is it always me?" he moaned despairingly.

Frigga kissed his forehead gently. "What ever do you mean?"

"The monster. Why am I always the monster?"

"Who called you that?"

Loki rubbed his cheek, wiping away the remainder of his tears. "Thor and his friends. Whenever we play, I'm always the frost giant. I never get to be the warrior. And when it's not frost giants, it's something else. Everyone laughs at me. Nobody laughs at Thor."

Frigga placed her hands on his shoulders. "Loki, listen to me," she said softly. "You are _not_ a monster. The others..." Frigga paused, searching for the right words. Loki was an exceptionally clever child, but there were some things that even he could not yet grasp. What could she say to him without undermining her husband?

"Loki, sometimes people are mean to those they don't understand-"

"So I _am_ different!"

He was indeed too sharp for this. Loki had learned long before Thor that monsters truly did exist, but not in the way the young lad often pictured them. Frigga was going to have to have a little talk with Odin when he returned.

"You are," Frigga admitted, seeing no way to dance around the subject. "You are beautiful and smart and kind. You see things the rest of the world doesn't want to. You are brilliant and powerful in ways the rest of the world can only dream of. You will do great things someday."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. As for Thor... sometimes families don't get along. Sometimes we say things that we shouldn't." _Or don't say what we should_, she thought to herself, "but never doubt that we love you." And, you know," she added, "monsters aren't all bad. Some are just lonely. Sometimes, they just need a friend."

"Really?" Loki asked, the corners of his lips pulling back into a shy smile.

Frigga, too, began to smile. "Yes, Loki."

They both turned as they heard the sound of two small feet shuffling through the door. "Loki?"

It was Thor. Frigga had never heard her son sound so small and helpless. His hair was messy and full of twigs, his clothes dirty and frayed. This was not an entirely uncommon sight for him. Rather, it was the way he held himself that seemed different. He seemed unusually _timid_.

"Fandral found a fox. He's trying to bring it out of its den. Do you want to come see it?"

Loki's eyes brightened. He enjoyed observing animals, and many of his favorite stories that his parents had told him involved foxes.

She turned her gaze upon Loki again. "Go on," she whispered encouragingly, sensing his uncertainty; Loki had never had to choose between spending time with her or Thor before.

"Thank you, mother," he said quietly, giving her a quick hug.

"Be careful!" she called, watching her boys scamper off. She gathered up some of the pieces she had been working on previously. Before long, the weather would be colder, and Thor and Loki would need new clothes. Thor was already hitting his growth spurt, and soon enough, Loki would, too. Few things in the world made the boys happier than Frigga's handmade gifts.

As she passed through her door, and out into the hallway, she ran into her husband.

"Frigga," he greeted her warmly. She beamed and moved to kiss his cheek. "Sewing more garments, I see?"

"I can hardly keep up with them!" she laughed as Odin walked alongside her.

Odin smiled. "You are working far too much. You don't have to make everything yourself."

"I enjoy it," Frigga returned. "It is difficult to keep up with them sometimes, yes, but I enjoy every moment of it, and I have been all along."

It was true: From the moment Frigga had given birth to Thor, and the moment she had taken Loki into her arms, they had become her world. There was no greater satisfaction than in seeing the joy in their eyes when she handed them garments she had sewn together with her very own hands. Thor, rowdy was he was, might occasionally come home with the occasional tears, but patching them up was rarely an issue for Frigga. She genuinely enjoyed tending to her family.

"I never did have a talent for that sort of thing," Odin admitted.

Frigga smiled, twisting the fingers of her free hand into his. "But you _are_ a most gifted storyteller."

Odin chuckled again. "You give me too much credit."

"Perhaps I do," Frigga said. "You know, you caused a bit of a stir earlier today."

"How so?"

"Your story about the frost giants seemed to have quite the impression on our sons earlier."

His smile faltered. "They needed to know our history."

Frigga stopped and gently released his hand. "It's not history that concerns me."

"Then what does?" Odin asked, his voice turning cold.

Frigga licked her lips nervously, wondering if it would be wise to confront him. The mental image of Loki running into her in tears was more than enough to convince her. "Loki is beginning to ask me questions I may not be able to answer," she confessed. "He knows he is different, and it's only a matter of time before he finds out the truth."

"No, he will not. Not until the time is right."

"And when will that be? When he and Thor are old enough to march into Jotunheim and slaughter hundreds of his people? He believes the jotuns to be _monsters. _He ran in here, crying, because his friends had made _him_ the frost giant in their game. My love, we _have_ to put an end to this."

"It's child's play, nothing more! Boys are rough and excitable."

Frigga shook her head. "Loki isn't. He isn't like the other boys, Odin. He isn't like Thor."

Odin didn't seem too concerned. "In time, he will be."

The remainder of Frigga's patience snapped. "How many years has it been since you brought him home? I knew he was my son the moment our eyes met. But you - it has been so long, and you _still_ haven't accepted him!"

"That is not true-"

"It _is_ true! You and Thor cast such shadows over him, you never truly see him. Loki is _not_ Thor. He is not the other boys. Sooner or later, he will find out."

"What would you have me do?" Odin asked. Of course, they both knew he had no intention of taking whatever advice Frigga might offer.

"Stop telling him stories of monsters. He already hears about them from everyone else."

"Then what difference does it make?"

"He listens to you!" Frigga retorted, exasperated. "He believes in you and desires your approval more than you can even imagine! I know you love him... I just worry that you don't truly understand him. He thinks the world of you, and he needs to know that you feel the same."

Odin sighed, appearing ashamed. "I don't know how to talk to him."

Frigga's lips spread into a gentle, understanding smile as she took his hand again. "Then listen to me when I do," she said, somewhat sternly.

To his credit, he did so later that night, as Frigga tucked both of the boys in for bed. The fox had gotten away from the boys earlier that afternoon, and so Frigga had decided to tell them her own story about it, and even used some of her illusions. The boys watched, mesmerized, as a glowing silver fox bounded about their room, darting underneath the small end tables and occasionally leaping at unseen prey.

As he watched his wife conjure and maintain her illusions, Odin could indeed begin to understand Loki's love of magic. If only the rest were so easy. In that moment, standing just outside the open doorway, Odin felt truly lost.

Loki's eyes beamed with childish innocence. He looked Asgardian, and in that moment, he even seemed so. In that moment, he seemed like Odin's son. Guilt twisted his insides painfully.

Would he be able to go through with his plans for the future?

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know this chapter's a bit short, and the story may feel a bit slow. It's going to pick up very soon! For those who are wondering, this story will follow the movie canon fairly closely, but with a major shift in character perspectives. I want to give characters that didn't get much screen-time in the movie more depth, and I want to really get into the minds of these different characters and show their perspectives._

_I also want to fix some of the continuity errors present in the movies, and try to right some of the 'wrongs' in them, because while I loved the movies, I feel that there were some areas story-wise where they were weak, or downright problematic._

_Also, while I do want to show 'Loki's side' in this story, and the future sequels, this isn't going to be a 'Loki is the helpless victim and everyone else is evil' kind of fic. All characters are going to do questionable things, and all of them are going to have redeeming moments._

_A/N #2: So I updated this chapter a bit. I added a few small details here and there, and expanded the ending a bit. I didn't like how abruptly it cut off, but I wasn't quite sure how to end the prologue. I had a few ideas for scenes that would take place between Frigga and Odin throughout the story, but there was one in particular I wasn't sold on, and I think it fits the ending here perfectly. Please let me know what you think!_


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